Life As an Afterschool Special

So… Its 11:00 am and I already have fun Jamie stories I could tell… but honestly even the momentary high of a few classic Jamie moments has already worn off. Instead of being entertaining today, I think I am going to go out of my box and be real and deep. I hope you don’t mind.

Yesterday was a really really hard day for me. Maybe one of the hardest I have had in a while. After work Kim came to take me out to dinner, and when she got to my house I was sitting on the couch with tears streaming down my cheeks.

It was a hard week. And I was just beginning to feel like I had my feet under me and little more steady. Then everything came at once.

Life is a little overwhelming right now. And I am doing a pretty good job being “fine” and “fun” and not focusing on hard things, but inside I am really just so so so sad. If I am honest.

I have been thinking a lot yesterday and today about how ignorance really is bliss. When we don’t know about dying grandparents or angry friends or credit scores or rents being raised or not being able to rent the house you have your heart set on or past employers saying horrible things about you or roommates being upset or past issues that are about to resurface, that finding out changes everything, even though nothing really changed at all.

All those things existed before you knew. People got angry or made those choices or made up their minds long before you actually found out about it. Grandparents were sick long before the hospital pronounced them terminal. You just didn’t know. And knowing changes everything.

I am overwhelmed in the knowing. I would rather not know.

I wish it was a week ago and I still thought I had a handle on my emotions or on my past. I wish that I still thought that I was making progress and getting healthy and moving towards having meaningful relationships and I wasn’t afraid of men or commitment or myself.

I wish it was a week ago and I didn’t know that my rent was being raised and I didn’t meet with a financial advisor and I didn’t know my credit score and I still had hope of subleasing a friends house for half of what I pay now.

I wish it was a week ago and I never got an email from a friend saying that an old employer was saying horrible things about me.

I really really wish it was a week ago and my relationships were still solid and intact and the people I love and trust most in this world still loved and trusted me.

But more than anything else, I wish it was a week ago and I thought both my grandparents were fine and there was lots of time to go home and tell them how much I love them and how much I appreciate everything they have done and how much they loved me and how that love has shaped me in so many ways.

But knowing changes everything… and I do know all these things now. And I am so so so sad.

In my description of myself, I claimed that I loved the roller coaster of life, both the highs and the lows, because it is in those highs and lows that you truly know you are living.

Lately that thought has been put to the test. In a moment of lows do I still enjoy the ride?

I believe that each experience in life is an opportunity to learn and grow, and each experience has the ability to make you better or make you bitter.

But the choice between the two is yours to make.

There are times when no matter how much you desire something , how much you fight for it, and how much you believe in it, it can not or will not exist outside of your hopes or dreams.

And there is a time when you have to decide if you are going to keep struggling, keep hoping, or gracefully walk away.

The choice is never easy. Because your heart wants to hold out hope, and you fear what letting go will mean. But if you are honest with yourself, the choice has already been made for you.

The truth is holding on only hurts you, and takes you one step closer to becoming bitter and one step farther from becoming better.

And so you mourn the loss of what could have been. You cry. You get angry. But you think back over this experience and you realize that you will grow because of it, and that you wouldn’t change a thing.

You have made mistakes along the way.

You weren’t perfect.

You were real and you were flawed.

But you fought as hard as you knew how.

You loved as deeply as you were able.

You believed as truly as you were capable.

And as much as it hurts, you can walk away knowing you truly lived the moment. You experienced the ride.

and end the end, I still believe that’s what counts.

Sometimes life just happens faster than you can keep up with, and all you can manage to do is tread water and hope to keep your head afloat. You get so busy doing… working and living and fixing and planning… that you forget being. Being still. Being small. Being thankful. Being real. Being loved.

And thoes are the moments when you need something or someone to reach into your busy life and remind you to slow down, to laugh, to breathe deeply and just be.

It has been such a long time since I have been truly inspired to write, but someone completely unexpected just reminded me to laugh, to smile, and to capture a moment.

I worked all day today and then ran four blocks in heels to catch my bus home. As the bus pulled up my feet ached and my mind was racing with sales and numbers and goals for work and everything I needed to get done tonight and tommorow and the day after that. I feel like I never have any time. My personal life is a mess and professional life is moving faster than I can keep up with.

The man sitting to my left on the bus was in a wheelchair. He was an older man, in his 50’s or 60’s and had on overalls and a John Deer hat. He only had one leg and his overalls were pinned up. I studied him for a moment thinking he looked like a character out of a book, sitting tall and humming to himself. He looked over at me and smiled, and I gave a half hearted smile and turned back to the window. I was tired. I didn’t feel like being friendly.

His voice, old and deep and suprisingly warm, jarred me from my self pity.

“I bet I can make you laugh” he said.

“”Excuse me” I said turning to him.

“I bet I can make you laugh” His blue eyes twinkled and deep lines etched around his eyes as he smiled.

I was taken off guard. I thought in that moment that he had the most beautiful warm eyes I had ever seen. I smiled despite myself.

“I bet you laugh you easily” he remarked. I sighed and answered “Usually”

He began telling me a story about how he has been fighting bone cancer for over 20 years, and a year ago doctors had to cut off his leg and his groin. His eyes continued to twinkle as he told the story.

“That isnt funny at all! That is terrible” I exclaimed.

“I haven’t got to the funny part. When they removed my leg that also removed half my butt. Now I am officially a half assed man” He let out a hearty laugh at his own joke and slapped his leg in merriment. I laughed with him. I asked him his name and he told me it was Pat.

And then Pat continued. He told me that he used to be very very angry. He was angry at the world, and very angry at God. He wasnt a very nice person or a very friendly one. He said he went to see a pre op plastic surgeon before they took his leg last year, and after the doctor told him the grim news about what would happen and what it would like Pat broke down and cried for the first time in years.

I held my breath as he told me the story, memorized by his eyes and the warmth in his voice as he spoke. He said that doctor put a strong hand on his shoulder and quietly asked him if he could pray with him, and for the first time in years he prayed. Pat said in that moment everything changed. He said he understood for the first time in his life that God had a plan for him that had nothing to do with his plan for himself. And that has given him hope and peace ever since. Even as a half assed man. He gestured to a little toy frog hanging from his wheelchair and said “Someone gave this to me. It says fully rely on God. I look at it and remind myself of that all the time. Because in the end what else is there.”

I smiled and felt connected to him and comforted by his simple story. Even his cheesy use of the frog seemed so genuine and not at all contrived. He spoke with warmth and compassion and joy, not as if he wanted to sell me religion or win me over. He used simple words and a soft tone, and his eyes never lost the twinkle. His honesty was captivating.

Then Pat looked me deep in the eyes and said “People walk around on two legs all the time too busy to even notice God. They feel sorry for themselves because things arent happening the way that they planned. And never take a moment to thank God for the plan HE has”

The bus pulled up to the station and I said goodbye and bent down and gave him a hug. I wanted to laugh and cry all at the same time. And I wanted to write. I needed to a minute out of my day and write. I wanted to sit down and tell the story of Pat and how he reminded to be just be.

Be still still.

Be thankful.

Be real.

What color is Jesus? Does the color of his skin change his message? Does his heritage change our inheritance? Or is the message of hope in the Bible universal?

These questions have been rolling around in my head for the past few days. I was walking downtown last Friday when I heard angry voices amplified on the city streets. I heard the words, but what they were saying didn’t make any sense to me. The voices were quoting Bible verses so familiar to me I could recite them along with the speaker, but they were saying them in a context I have never heard before.

I turned the corner and came face to face with the voices. They were coming from angry black men, dressed in white robes with a red insignia sewn into the cloth. I had never seen anything like it. I thought they were the black Ku Klux Clan. They were members of the Nation of Islam.

One of them held up a famous picture of Jesus. He pointed to it and yelled, “If this is who you think Jesus is, if this is the picture of Jesus in your head or in your house, you are worshiping an idol. You are worshiping the devil. Jesus is not white. Jesus is black. Jesus hates whites”

My breath caught in my throat and I stared the men down. I know enough about the Bible to not believe Jesus was a Caucasian male, but I also know enough about the Bible to know Jesus doesn’t hate whites either.

The man with the microphone continued. “If you are not black you are condemned to hell. God hates you. He hates you for enslaving my people. His people. God’s people are the Jews, and who are the true Jews? Blacks. Blacks are Jews. Blacks are Gods people. But you put the chains on his people, and now he hates you. He hates you and has condemned you to hell” then he took out his bible and misused scripture to prove his point.

I was so angry I began crying. They looked at me with hate in their eyes as they continued to condemn and lie and shout, but I didn’t look away. I looked into their eyes and cried.

This was MY God they were screaming about. This was MY Jesus who had died for my sins, and for theirs, that they were lying about. I felt the anger that can only come when you know someone is hurting someone or something you love very much.

Finally I could take it no longer. When everyone else was walking away I marched up and looked the leader in the eye. With a shaking voice I spoke up.

“Shame on you.” I said.

He just looked at me. I continued.

“Shame on you for telling lies about the character of God. Shame on you for making Jesus into something he is not. Shame on you for taking the Bible and twisting it into lies. You took something that is beautiful and pure and true and made it into something ugly. Shame on you”

His lips curved into a cruel smile. “You are saying that because you are condemned. Because you are a woman. And you are white”

I reeled back from the sting of his false words. The truth is, as a white upper class woman, I haven’t ever been truly discriminated against. I felt angry and helpless and pity all at the same time.

“I don’t understand,” I cried. “I don’t understand how you can stand on this street corner and spread such lies and hate. God loves. The Bible says God so loved the world that he sent his son while we were still sinner. It says we are fearfully and wonderfully made. It says there will be no Jew or gentile. That we are brothers and sisters” I started to cry again. “I just don’t understand”

He looked at me with hate and said, “You never will.”

I had so much more to say but I could tell it was falling on deaf ears. I looked the man sadly, said I would pray for them, and walked away with tears streaming down my face. I felt the way Jesus must have when he discovered sin at the temple and overturned tables in his anger.

I had to process. I had to talk it out. I called a few friends and finally got a hold of a friend who was home. I sank down on a bench and told him the story. He listened, and reminded me that I was angry at the sin, but not the men who were sinning. Truthfully I was angry with both. I thought, “I know Jesus loves them, but I still think they are jerks”

But over the fast days I have thought a lot about that confrontation. And I am sadder at the lies these men believed about Jesus then the fact they were so vocal.

The truth is no matter what color Jesus’ skin was, his promise is the same for all races, all nations, all generations. It isn’t a message of anger and hate, but one of love and forgiveness.

One day we will all face judgment, and we will be separated. It will not be the color of our skin that divides us, but rather our faith in the one true God. The Bible says whoever believes with their heart and confesses with their mouth that Jesus is Lord will be saved.

It is a hope that transcends racial and economic barriers.

It transcends nations.

I shared these opinions as Part 2 because I think they represent how a majority of us view single Christians in both a positive and negative light.

My conclusion is there is not a one size fits all answer. People are complicated beings, and love is messy. We don’t all share the same background or lifestyle, therefore we can’t possibly have the same reasons for why we are single. I am guessing, in diving more more into this topic, we will discover there isn’t a one size fits all answer in how to live out single life either.

All the discussion of singleness has lead me to question my own situation and singleness.

I spent six out of the ten adult years of my life dating and engaged to Matt, and another three dealing with the consequences of that choice. Actually I still deal with the consequence of that choice.

While there have been times that I have worried that I spent the majority of my adult life with a man so clearly wrong for me and in the process of doing so missed my chance at love and marriage, in my heart of hearts I don’t really believe that to be true.

I think I will get married. I think one day there will be a man who knows me and loves me just as I am and yet hopes for me and wants to see me grow into the strong woman of God I can be. While often the lies of men who have hurt me play in my head about how hard I am to love and about everything wrong that I do and am, I am learning to hold to the truth.

And (this is where I may sound vain) I know men like me. I date. More then I should at times. But I know some men find me cute, and fun, and sweet. I know I am fiercely loyal and supportive and encouraging. Because of those things and more I think I will make an amazing wife one day, and I think the spiritual gifts I have along with my experience will allow me to become a good “helpmate”. I think God created me like and for that. I think I greatly desire to be a wife and a mother, and I believe that God placed that want on my heart and He is good and faithful.

So why am I 28 and still single if I am so amazing? (I know, I ask myself that all the time. Heh.)

I think my friends had amazing answers to these questions… my answers:

The first answer is because of Gods timing. I agree with Lydia. He is shaping me and molding me to the woman I know He wants me to be. I have experienced a lot of pain and heartache, and I do have issues and baggage that will take many years to overcome, but I am overcoming. I am growing and running the race. Slowly at times, and sometimes my run is more of a crawl, but I am learning through my successes and failures. I am becoming a woman of substance and a woman of courage and a woman of strength and faith. My walk is more real now than it ever was, and I know I can face almost anything.

So I am still single because I am still in a place where I am becoming “me” and because of God timing. I am also still single because between the ages of 18 and 24 I dated the same man, and between 24 and 27 had to run from him. And that is honestly the time when everyone around me was falling in love with people from college and church and such and getting married.

The truth is Jeff and Hannah are right. The dating pool has shrunk. There are a lot less people out there who are looking then there was when I was 18. And a lot fewer places to find someone. I have been at the same church for 8 years, I don’t go to college anymore… where do I find fun attractive single men with good taste in music who love Jesus?

Also… I am picky. I have been really really really hurt. And betrayed in some of the worst ways you can be by someone you love. And even though at times I may seem like an open book, those who know me well know it takes me a long long long time to trust. I stay surfacy for way longer than I should because I am afraid of people knowing the real me and getting hurt. So I stay shallow and silly and fun and flirty and guard my heart and dont let people really in (even though some may think they are). So in that regard Steve is right. I am single because I am broken, and I don’t trust.

And while I am being honest, I will admit I have only been seriously interested and “dating” (not to be confused with going on dates) four men since I was 18. And Matt was one of them, and two of them were long distance. So if I am honest, while I have lots of experience flirting and going on dates, I am actually kind of new when it comes to having good healthy long lasting relationships. In some way I kind of suck at it.

So there you have it. I am amazing, but I am single for all those reasons and more.

And I am ok with it. Usually. I want to get married. I think I will get married. Sometimes I worry because I know loving me wont always be easy, but I really do think I am a good catch and worth fighting for.

So that is WHY I think I am single… now… How to live it out becomes the issue.

As a Christian single can you “date”? And if you do what are the physical boundaries? Where are you supposed to find these single people? What are you supposed to look for? What is appropriate single relationships look like?

Because what Sex in the City tell you you are supposed to look like and what I Kissed Dating Goodbye tell you are polar opposites.

And I find myself in the Grey middle.

I have been thinking about this topic for a while but for now I will make this a small blog series while I formulate my thoughts… please let me know what you think and your opinions and ideas…

PART ONE

My roommate and I have a secret addiction to Sex in the City. We own the DVDs and watch episodes when they come on TV. We uses “City-isms” in referring to men. When in a discussion about men you can often hear us saying “He is so your Big” and “He is a turtle. Total fixer upper” Krista is a Charlotte and I am Carrie. We mesh well. The series makes us laugh and cry and think and feel good about being strong and being single.

The truth is, series or not, I actually like being single. It may be my commitment phobia talking or my terrible past experience, but at this moment I truly enjoy being single in the city. I am city girl.

I love my overly girly duplex. I love that I have a Marilyn Monroe picture and sewing bust with a vintage dress on it in my living room. I love that we used pinks and oranges and deep reds to decorate the house, and my books and DVDs are arranged by color because that’s what I think looks the best. (It tends to drive men and some woman crazy) I love that I am short bus ride from downtown, and across the street from my favorite restaurants.

I love getting together with girlfriends and having a cocktail and seeing a band and dancing and getting home at whatever time I chose. I like buying shoes and furniture without having to worry about how my shopping affects someone else’s budget. I like being home alone and curling up in my favorite chair with a good book and not having to entertain anyone. I like dancing around my room in my underwear and taking as long as I like to get ready. I like takeout for one and leftovers, and eating spaghetti o’s right out of the can for dinner, and a fridge that has ice cream, wine, and pickles in it.

I like that there are opportunities out there. I like that men pursue me. I like that I don’t have to make any choices and fall in love with the next man who chases me, but I have the ability to. I like that I can decide what I need, and what is healthiest for me. I like dating. I like being wooed. I like the thrill of romance and even the heartbreak that comes with failed attempts. I like that I have great girlfriends and a great roommate to come home and talk and process with.

I like all the thing that make my life very Sex in The City. I like the shoes and the bars and the girlfriends and the dating and the coffee shops and the dancing.

But I am missing one thing in my Sex in the City lifestyle…

The Sex.

(Y’all didn’t think I was going to go there did you?)

I don’t have sex. The truth is, I don’t even kiss. I haven’t really kissed in over three years and I haven’t had sex in much much much longer.

And I have been thinking about how hard it can be to be 28 and a single christian girl in a sex in the city world.

You can begin to feel as if your only three options are marriage, promiscuity, or becoming the “cat lady”. You know what I am talking about. No one wants to be the lady who locks herself in her house and knits sweaters for her cats and has terrible taste in clothes and reads romance novels and dreams of being kidnapped by a pirate who looks like Fabio. (It is much better if the dreams involve a Johnny Depp Pirate. Then it is acceptable.)

As a single woman you can begin to feel as if to be empowered you must be sexual, and aggressive, and selfish. The alternative is to be boring, unattractive, and lonely.

That just isn’t true. And as much as I do love all the things I mentioned above, I love that I can be all those things and do all those things and still glorify God. I can be fun and fabulous and have a sexless in the city lifestyle.

But how?

Last night was a crazy night. At three am I hear the door bell ringing like someone is laying on it. I am frustrated, but I throw on my robe and turn on my light and look out the window. The ringing stops, but I cant see who is at the door and they dont answer when I yell. My heart is pounding but after checking to make sure my roommate is home (she is), I decide it may be some kid or some drunk person and go get a drink from my bathroom to calm myself.

Then I hear someone trying to get into the back door, so I yell that I am going to call the police, and shut my bedroom door and dial 911. I tell them I have a protection order and I think someone may be trying to get into my house and I ask them to send a car to see.

Then I call a few friends just to process and calm myself down.

After I hang up I hear this loud crash and then someone tries to open the door to my actual apartment. I yell that I am calling the police and hear them run down the stairs.

I laid in bed awake for most of the night. In the morning I called one of my best friends Kathy to tell her I the story. I say “Oh I think some kids or some drunk was trying to play a joke”

But when leave the house I find my backdoor kicked in and the lock broke.

Ok, Not so much a joke.

So I go to the landlords and say “What happened last night” and my landlord replies that he has no idea what I am talking about.

I ask if anyone rang his doorbell and he said no. I tell him the events of last night and he comes and looks at the door with me.

I decide I need to call the police again and actually file a report.

The police comes and I show him my Ohio Protection Order. He says I need to show him my MN protection order and gives me the number of the domestic abuse people he works with so I can get a copy.

I call them and they say my Ohio PO is just as valid. And I am furious. Are you kidding me?! After all the drama of the past month?!

I go back to the officer and tell him what I just heard, and he said they are wrong. So I call the people when I am front of him and thenthe police man talks to them.

They tell him according to some law in 1994 PO are valid in all 50 states, US territories, and on Reservations. He says they are wrong and he is calling the DA to confirm this information.

At this point he gives me his direct line and promises he will find all this out and get back to me.

I HATE THE SYSTEM.

AND SOMEONE BROKE DOWN MY DAMN DOOR.

And it wasnt a robber because they didnt take anything or even try to take anything, because a cd player and other things were left in the stairwell untoched. And Robbers dont usually ring your bell and then still try to break in after they discover you are clearly home.

And agian… I HATE THIS SYSTEM.

The police office (who is my new favorite) does call me back. He tells me that my PO from Ohio was valid and I didnt need one from MN. He says almost no one knows this so the Cheof of police is going to send out a memo informing the rest of the police. And I control myself and dont yell. But in my head I am yelling.

GAH. STUPID STUPID STUPID SYSTEM WHERE NO ONE EVER KNOWS WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON AND THEY JUST MAKE EVERYTHING WORSE. POLICE DONT KNOW< LAWYERS DONT KNOW AND I HATE EVERYONE. THANKS FOR GIVING MY EX MY ADDRESS YOU STUPID JERKS.

The officer is very nice and says to keep his direct line and gives me the DAs direct line. He says if I ever see my ex to call him and they will arrest him.

The good news is I finally found a friend and advacate in the stupid system. The bad news is my landlord is pissed, my door is broken, I never had to report my change of address, and I am still a little scared.

So… I could use prayers. For peace, and patience, and protection.

I took a job as a personal assistant to a Christian Counselor/Speaker and I have really liked it. When I took the job I told my new boss that I interviewed at a non profit and I really wanted to work with battered woman someday. A few days after I was hired I got an email from the non profit asking me to come back for a third interview. I talked to my new boss about it, and with her blessing I went to the interview.

I arrive at the interview and there are literally NINE people in the conference room to interview me.

I sit down and they start asking me questions about my experience. Most of my experience with working with battered woman (besides personal) is through Christian organizations. I worked with Lovelines Christian Counseling, and I lead a group with Celebrate Recovery.

They start asking me questions about my faith and the role it plays in my life.

One woman turns to me and says, “We strive to break misogynist views. Its part of our mission statement. These are views the church usually upholds. Doesn’t the church say woman need to be quiet and submit”?

And I am thinking are you KIDDING me?! This is an interview! But I answer.

”The church does believe that, but it also believes men should love their wives the way Christ loved the church, and He died for his love. So it isn’t about women being weak, but about both men and woman being strong enough to not be selfish”

We talked more about the church, and I think I offended them when I said I do think there were men roles and woman roles.

And then (this is a huge moment) they asked me if I could share my own experience without talking about faith.

I thought about it and answered no. I couldn’t. And I didn’t know how you could train someone to work with broken hurting battered woman and not talk about faith in something. If this life and all the pain were all there was what hope is there?

I am thinking “This is the worst interview EVER” and they all leave the room. They leave me there for almost 20 minutes and I am thinking “They hate me… I never should have worn a dress and heels”

After 20 minutes they come in and OFFER ME THE JOB.

No joke.

At 20.00 an hour.

But the lady said “I hope you are ok with not talking about your faith. I know you love your religion, but I hope you love helping woman more”

And I want to say yes. But I open my mouth and out comes “I am sorry, I can’t. I wish you the best of luck, but I am really not what you are looking for. This isn’t a good fit”

I wanted to cry.

But I realized in that moment that although my heart of hearts is to work with broken women; I can not and I will not do it with out God.

You’ve got to get yourself together
You’ve got stuck in a moment
And you can’t get out of it
Don’t say that later will be better
Now you’re stuck in a moment
And you can’t get out of it

And if the night runs over
And if the day won’t last
And if your way should falter
Along this stony pass

It’s just a moment
This time will pass

U2~ Stuck in a Moment

I woke up this morning and took a deep breath and thought “I am ok” and I meant it. Despite all things that have gone wrong the past few weeks (with Bob and Matt and Amy and my car and money and looking for a roommate) I really am ok.

And it has nothing to do with my “box”

It is because I have learned when everything else is falling apart, when I feel most alone, that is when God is most near. He is comfort and strength and rest.

And I am ok because I have amazing people in my life who love me and care for me and support me.

My family encourages me and prays for me and loves me unconditionally. The hope for me, and they believe in me. Even though they are far away I know I am cared for.

And I have friends who have become family, and who have let me lean on them. On Sunday night I sent a text to a few friends saying only “Can I sleep on your couch. I need a friend”

Every single one of them called me back immediately and listened to me cry and offered comfort and support. One friend text me back and said “Stay where you are, I am coming to you” and picked me up and took me to her house and made me laugh.

My friends have slept at my house and let me sleep at their house this week, and they have come over and helped clean out the mess my roommate left and organize and taken me out to dinner. And yesterday when my car broke down a dear friend sat at Dunn Brothers for over three hours and waited with me while the tow truck came. (This is where I have to add not only did my car break down, but I got a parking ticket because of it. Ha.)

And this morning I got a text from a friend who offered to take me to her parents cabin this weekend. Her text said, “Cabin this weekend. Sex in the City Season one and two. Wine. Red or white?”

I am going to lie in the sun and drink white wine and watch Sex in the City.

And I am going to be ok. Because I am loved. And this time will pass.

You know I’ve seen a lot of what the world can do
And it’s breakin’ my heart in two
Because I never wanna see you a sad girl
Don’t be a bad girl
But if you wanna leave, take good care
I hope you make a lot of nice friends out there
But just remember there’s a lot of bad and beware

Oh, baby, baby, it’s a wild world
It’s hard to get by just upon a smile
Oh, baby, baby, it’s a wild world
I’ll always remember you like a child, girl

Cat Stevens Wild World

I sat on the bus this morning with tears streaming down my eyes. I was reading the Star Tribune, and the front page stories were heartbreaking.

In local news two men were killed execution style late night in a normally quiet neighborhood in the cities. They were robbed, force to kneel in an alley, and then shot execution style in head. The three suspects in the killings are a 15-year-old boy, his 17-year-old girlfriend, and their 19 friend. There was no motive for the murders other than the desire to kill.

Making national news were videos made by Cho Seung Hui, the man who killed over 30 people at Virginia Tech this week in the nations deadliest single man killing spree. The videos, along with pictures of Hui posing with guns, were sent to NBC news the day of the murders.

The package included 29 photographs, several short videos and a 1,800-word manifesto in which Cho expresses a desire to get even, though it does not say with whom, according to the NBC News program. In the videos Hui painted himself as a moralist who decried his audience’s hedonistic tastes. It brimmed with recriminations and a sense of persecution, and referred to the killers at Columbine High School in Colorado as martyrs.

“You had a hundred billion chances and ways to avoid today, but you decided to spill my blood,” Cho said in one of the videos. “You forced me into a corner and gave me only one option… You have vandalized my heart, raped my soul and torched my conscience. Thanks to you, I die like Jesus Christ to inspire generations of the weak and the defenseless people.”

Along with the articles were pictures and descriptions of some of Hui’s victims. They were daughters and sons, fathers, brothers and sisters. They had hopes and dreams and goals. They looked forward to a future. They were loved. They were real.

The contrast between the hope of young college students and professors and the despair and hate of Hui and the people involved with yesterdays local shootings took my breath away. It brought tears to my eyes and I felt angry and sad. And I wanted to know why.

What is happening to the world we live in? How did people become so hardened, so cruel, so hate filled? How did we become a society who glorifies death and killing and pain and hate? And where do we go from here?

I think the answer, ironically, lies in some of Cho Seung Hui’s last words. In his last video Hui states “I die like Jesus Christ to inspire generations of the weak and the defenseless people.”

As a Christian, this statement made me angry. Hui is nothing like Jesus, and his death is selfish and cowardly.

Jesus died for us, for our sin and our mistakes. He went to death not as a guilty man, but as a blameless man who received our punishment. Bu it’s easy to look at men like Hui and compare ourselves.

We begin to think in comparison that we really aren’t that terrible. We don’t need a savior. We haven’t killed anyone; we aren’t so hateful and evil. But God says that if you have hate in your heart it is the same as killing. And how often, even in little ways, do we hate and lie and steal and cheat and hurt others with our selfishness?

The truth is killings and death and pain will continue to happen because we are a wicked and fallen generation. We are lost. And we know that any moment our time may be up. No one is guaranteed tomorrow. We are not immortal, and no matter how people one may kill or how many headlines scream our name today, tomorrow we will be a distant memory, or forgotten all together.

There isn’t hope in this world. There isn’t peace in the world. And the truth is, it is a wild world, and there a lot of bad people out there.

But even as I sit and cry and for the lost and the hurting and the broken I have hope. I have peace. Because I know that this life is passing, but when I put my hope in Jesus Christ I can see there is something bigger and better then this crazy wild world we call home.

If you don’t know the peace and hope I am talking about, if you don’t know Jesus, I just encourage you to seek him. Seek him and ask questions and demand answers. Feel free to email me or comment and I will answer as best as I can. But seek him and he will be found. Seek him now before it is too late.